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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041095">Wishful Thinking</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative'>Val_Creative</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adventure, Alternate Canon, Angel/Human Relationships, Banter, Cittagazze (His Dark Materials), Crush at First Sight, Developing Friendships, Dreams, F/F, First Meetings, Late Night Conversations, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 02, Religion, Romantic Fluff, Shyness, Some Humor, Tenderness, Unresolved Romantic Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:33:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041095</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary and Xaphania finally meet face-to-face… in Mary's dream.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mary Malone/Xaphania</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Chocolate Box - Round 6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wishful Thinking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/DownToTheSea/gifts">DownToTheSea</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>These two are SOOOO good. I'm so happy to write this! 🥰 If you have any thoughts, please share them! I would love them!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Mary unwraps herself a piece of goat's cheese from a vine-leaf, and she wonders what happens now.</p><p>The shadow particles… <em>Dust</em>… they told her to come here. Mary needed to make a journey. She's discovered two girls in an empty, ancient city and they begged her to stay with them. Mary could feel her heart breaking. Their parents were gone. Dead.</p><p>Angelica and Paula eagerly led Mary over to the forested region, rejoining with the other adults and children.</p><p>One of women openly cried, rushing in and hugging Paula who whimpered through her own tears. Paula's arms tightened fiercely around her. Mary supposes they were a family friend, or an aunt; she thinks of her own niece and nephew, and Mary's lip quivers.</p><p>She cannot think them and her older sister worrying about Mary's disappearance.</p><p>Not now in this world confusing Mary with its unbearably hot climate and vastness. Even if Mary did leave post, reassuring she would call.</p><p>Whenever she could.</p><p>Mary sits by herself under pine trees, opening her rucksack. The back of her neck slickened in sweat.</p><p>She hasn't gotten a moment's peace since Angelica mentioned how the Spectres… or whatever they were… they avoid Mary. Everyone wants to understand why. Mary doesn't have that answer, but she can find answers to questions she does have.</p><p>The pages to her little, red I Ching book flutter. Mary eyes the yarrow sticks she lowered, and reads their meaning.</p><p>
  <em>Little stones, doors, and opening…</em>
</p><p>Does… does she need to head up the mountain then…? Find a way to continue her journey there…?</p><p>A noisy leaf-rustle in the undergrowth. Footsteps approach.</p><p>"Miss!"</p><p>She covers her I Ching with the end of her silk scarf underneath, leaning over the rock.</p><p>"Yes?" Mary says courteously, but firm and frowning. "What is it?"</p><p>The woman, thin-faced and with dark, braided hair hanging off her shoulder like Angelica, hurries over. Mary immediately recognises her as Angelica's newest guardian. "Miss, you'll be staying with the rest… won't you be?" </p><p>Mary internally grimaces. She's similiar to a <em>talisman</em> in their minds.</p><p>"I'll be moving on, I'm afraid."</p><p>"You mustn't," Angelica's guardian insists, now frowning like Mary and glaring indignantly. Mary places her hand over her book when the other woman steps towards her. "You mustn't leave. We are safer with you here, Miss. The Spectres won't dare—" </p><p>Her voice cuts off, strangled in terror.</p><p>Mary turns curiously, looking for what Angelica's guardian backs away from.</p><p>
  <em>Nothing.</em>
</p><p>Nothing can be seen in the green, sun-saturated pines. </p><p>"Are you alright?" Mary asks, getting to her feet. She's always kept a soft and benevolent heart. Even while acting cross.</p><p>Mary's hand stretches out for the other woman's shoulder, and Angelica's guardian bolts. Mary finds herself slammed into, teetering and slipping on the wet mud. Her forearm takes the impact, scraping on a rough, grey rock. Mary hisses, clutching herself.</p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, Mary spots an iridescent, sparkling flash. </p><p>She goes upright, peering around warily and breathing hard.</p><p>
  <em>Nothing.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Night stretches out like Mary's hand.</p><p>But it feels cooler. Brighter. Wonderfully still without insects or birds chirping.</p><p>Mary crawls out of her sleeping bag, no longer tired. That's unusual since Mary had felt exhausted before napping. She faces what appears to a white-glow illumination facing Mary herself. Mary cups over her brow-line, straining her eyes. </p><p>"<em><strong>Do not be afraid."</strong></em></p><p>"I'm not," Mary whispers truthfully. Something inside her urges Mary to only speak truth or… or she shouldn't speak at all…</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"You may call me Xaphania."</em> </strong>
</p><p>It hits her. This voice.</p><p>The voice of The Cave, but no longer warbling and full of equipment static.</p><p>"I thought someone was following me," Mary concludes, now awestruck. The white-glow silhouette seems to get closer to Mary without moving, but it's hard to tell. "I could sense it somehow in the back of my mind. But not until I left my world."</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"That is not possible."</em> </strong>
</p><p>"A real angel didn't seem possible either, but here you are…" Mary ducks her head, smiling bashfully. "Here we are…"</p><p>Finally, the white-glow dims. </p><p>It's the figure of a woman, naked and tall, and with an eerily indeterminable light shining upon her. It doesn't come from within the angel. Mary's eyes follow the length of her gigantic wings. Xaphania's face appears lined, but young. Younger than Mary.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"Yes, we are."</em> </strong>
</p><p>"Mary," she declares breathlessly, awkwardly. "If you didn't know… I'm Mary Malone. You can, uhm, call me that? If you like?"</p><p>Xaphania stares down to Mary's forearm, those white-glow eyes narrowing.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"You're injured."</em> </strong>
</p><p>"Oh," Mary says, grasping herself and staring as well. Her eyes blink rapidly. "Oh dear. Must have happened while I fell. It's been raining…the ground is very slippery, and… I am sorry, goodness. I'm nervous. When I get nervous, I tend to prattle on…"</p><p>The angel remains silent, closing her human-looking fingers over Mary's wound.</p><p>Mary inhales, puzzled by the sharp-soft tingle.</p><p>"Am I safe with you, Xaphania?" she murmurs. "Is that why the Spectres won't come like Angelica said?"</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"You have a part to play in Lord Asriel's war. We all do."</em> </strong>
</p><p>"What does that mean?"</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"I abandoned Heaven for this war. Myself and the other angels who wished to rebel against the Authority."</em> </strong>
</p><p>"That's brave, isn't it?" </p><p><strong><em>"You speak of human emotions, Mary Malone</em></strong>," Xaphania points out. Her expression beautiful and unmoved. <strong><em>"I am not human."</em></strong></p><p>Mary flushes. She scolds herself.</p><p>"I didn't mean to imply…"</p><p>
  <em> <strong>"Regardless, the sound of your voice pleases me."</strong> </em>
</p><p>"Oh," Mary says, going timid. Studying the Bible never prepared for this. For going out into the world after living practically every hour in a convent and losing her religion. For the endearing nature of an angel watching over her. "Then… I suppose we should meet again like this."</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"We will not."</em> </strong>
</p><p>Xaphania stretches out a hand quickly, like the night, like Mary…</p><p>Mary gasps awake in her sleeping bag, rolling over. The wind blows through Mary's red hair and on her denim button-down shirt. She touches her own forehead, mesmerised by the tingling sensation growing underneath hot, damp sweat.</p><p>They <em>will</em> meet again.</p><p>Mary knows this, thinking of how Xaphania defended her from the Spectres frightening Angelica's guardian.</p><p>Just not in dreams.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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